When The Battle's Lost and Won
by Dana E. Vassy
Summary: Just when it seems I'm being nice to Fowley, I get all childish at the end..


When The Battle's Lost And Won  
  
Author: Lola the deranged shipper, who was almost   
sympathetic to Fowley  
Spoiler: The End, pretend s6 & 7 haven't happened.  
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Put your fancy lawyers   
back in their box please God and 20th C. Fox. I'm only   
giving you free advertising after all!  
Dedications: To Lissie, for conversion! To all my online   
Philes, I hope you appreciate it! To Felicity Dana   
(Scully) Louise, my little angel.  
Feedback: pretty please! This is my first real attempt,   
and I wanna know what you think:  
  
Scully_is_a_medical@doctor.com  
  
  
A Fowley Fic with a difference  
  
They are so happy together, almost perfect. Even their   
thoughts are a joint process. Laughing at private   
jokes, with a bind of love that seems impenetrable. If   
only I could find a chink…but none seem to exist.  
  
When I left Fox, all those years ago, it was not simply a   
career move. I left because I had to. Obviously there   
are huge perks in prestigious international diplomacy;   
but inevitably other concerns take prevalence. Not a   
day passes without regret over past mistakes, nor can I   
forget the pain I caused both Fox and myself. But   
perhaps this has just been another cruel twist of   
destiny.  
  
In the beginning, Fox and I had been a great couple -   
functioning on the same level. I wanted to help him find   
his sister, to stop the pain he could not escape alone.   
We would spend countless nights talking until the sun   
rose, signalling another day of work. Always planning   
the ultimate means to uncover the Truth. But he never   
looked at me with the passion now reserved exclusively   
for her. The X-Files were the most fantastic, and   
eventually fatal occurrence in our short relationship.   
Any feelings Fox once had for me were quickly channelled   
into his new quest, and I felt him gradually drifting   
from me as those tedious summer days dragged on. My   
only satisfaction was that he needed me. More than he   
could ever contemplate today.  
  
After all, everyone else saw the project as "Spooky's"   
indulgence, giving him a precious glimpse before   
siphoning him back into the mainstream. Just another   
pawn on the Consortium's global chessboard. They had   
come to me and guaranteed Fox's safety in return for my   
co-operation. I was the original spy on Agent Mulder's   
progress. His "high regard" for me made me ideal - even   
those bastards knew he could never love me. Convincing   
myself that I was protecting Fox, I maintained the   
charade until it became intolerable. I would die if he   
ever lost faith in me. The Consortium realised this, so   
demanded a removal that would not incite Fox into crusade   
mode. And thus it was time for a dignified retreat.  
  
European transfer seemed best. It was undoubtedly an   
immense opportunity, one that would make it churlish of   
me to refuse. It removed the possibility of visiting   
every weekend at least. Breaking the news to him was   
torturous, and it took three solid days to summon the   
courage. He never realised how strangely I must have   
been behaving. At least he had the decency to look   
interested, even perturbed as I told him. However, it   
was obviously the repercussions for his work that were   
his primary concern, not the trifling matter of our   
relationship dissolving. Just as I had given up hope,   
traces of sadness etched into the faint lines on his very   
kissable face. I think that was final realisation   
setting in. He held me, but not too tightly; he would   
not stop me from going. When I finally drew back from   
his comforting arms, I was powerless to stem the tide of   
unleashed tears. With a wry smile, Fox left the room,   
leaving me to my misery. But as he crossed the threshold   
he made one last effort.  
  
"I'll miss you"  
  
"Oh. I'll miss you, too, Fox"  
  
"Hey, you don't have to agree with me anymore. I   
guess you won't miss that."  
  
And he was gone. With him, any chance of survival our   
union ever had.  
  
After a pointless day in DC, I was 'ready' to fly off   
into the unknown. But I had become accustomed to acting   
on blind faith - a prerequisite of working with Fox - or   
so I thought. I lingered in the passenger lounge, until   
the absolute last boarding call. Had he shown up then   
and asked me to reconsider, I would have stayed in a   
moment. But I was reading lines from a script that Fate   
had no plans to follow. With my heart as heavy as my   
luggage, I trudged onwards to start the next chapter of   
my Chronicles.  
  
During my time abroad, I could never exclude Fox from my   
thoughts. He sent a Christmas card that first year, but   
no other contact was ventured. To him, I no longer   
mattered. I soon found out why. I kept abreast of   
matters relating to the X-Files through my limited   
contacts - notably the CSM. I was hurt when a   
replacement was assigned to my former post, but initially   
found solace in the fact that her unwillingness to   
believe would destroy her working with him.   
  
Unfortunately, this was largely proved wrong, as she has   
stayed the duration. She still demands evidence for   
everything. I hear her involvement has brought great   
suffering - I empathise. But she will never feel this   
continual guilt, disloyalty or rejection. So maybe she   
is not the only "perpetual victim".  
  
My return was as surprising as I had always planned it.   
The most comforting part was getting to defend Fox   
instantly, with him pleased to see me. Although it was   
hard to admit that someone had filled my position in my   
absence. Invading this partnership would be tough, but   
I stayed optimistic. Until Fox confessed his undying   
love for her. In front of everyone, after she almost got   
shot (again!) To everyone else it had been obvious; I   
must have been in denial. Still, it would never hurt to   
try...  
  
So, here I am. Outside her apartment. The music   
emanating from the place is strangely calming. "Please   
Forgive Me" Bryan Adams. Yes, Fox, please do forgive me.   
This is for you.  
  
Bracing myself, I burst the door open with my huge ass to   
find her...and Fox - half-naked and kissing. Right in   
front of me, oblivious to my presence. But then Fox   
turned to me, all worried. He still cares!  
  
"Diana, I thought you got shot! Why the gun?"   
Mulder gasped.  
  
"Well, your friend here should have taken the   
bullet. Now she will" I hissed  
  
"Agent Fowley? Are you okay?" Scully inquired   
breathless from her passionate interlude.  
  
"Let's say I'm here to enforce the Bureau policy   
about colleagues not getting it on"  
  
I snapped the safety off, ready to fire. I lined up the   
centre of the bitch's head. No doctor would save Dr   
Scully from this - and Mulder would be mine. As my   
finger began to squeeze, two shots startled me. As the   
pain in my stomach erupted, I saw the agents' guns for   
the first time, now held limply at their sides.  
  
Then the pain really hit. I heard her saying ambulance.   
Everything red and sticky again. Have to wash twice this   
month. I see straight can't. You Fox love.   
Speak...can't...bleurgh.  
  



End file.
